


little acts of kindness goes a long way

by Tatsumaki_sama



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Murder, Blood and Injury, Friendship, Gen, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Male Friendship, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Protectiveness, Strangulation, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatsumaki_sama/pseuds/Tatsumaki_sama
Summary: As the Fellowship travels south, they come across a wounded man. Frodo had only wanted to help but it was Aragorn who would pay the price.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel & Frodo Baggins, Aragorn | Estel & Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94





	little acts of kindness goes a long way

**Author's Note:**

> My love for Lord of the Rings was rekindled as I was rewatching the movies. I am just a sucker for more interactions between the Fellowship. I have no intention to delve into the stranger's background, but more on the results of his actions and what the Fellowship experienced. I also am not an expert of medieval medicine and any healing arts.

It began on an otherwise quiet afternoon.

Aragorn had accompanied Frodo and Sam as they travelled upstream to see if they catch some fish for dinner. While the two hobbits chattered excitedly about how they would prepare a warm meal, Aragorn was scanning the surroundings.

It was him who spotted a dark figure lying on the river bank first. The hobbits came to a sudden stop, nearly bumping into Aragorn's arm, protesting slightly before realizing why he had halted.

“ Is that a Man?” Sam frowned, craning his neck to see him better, though he remained at the safety behind Aragorn.

Frodo made to move towards the man but Aragorn held out an arm with a shake of his head. His hand never strayed from his sword.

“ He appears hurt, Aragorn,” Frodo said. “ I doubt he could do us harm. We should help him.”

At times like this, Aragorn marvelled at the innocence and kindness of hobbits. They were not only a hardy people, but also not easily troubled or hardened from their earlier adventures. Especially Frodo who still bore some pains and aches from his stab wound and would have been expected to be wary and suspicious of any potential threat.

“ Stay here,” he said instead.

Cautiously, Aragorn approached the man. His clothing was destitute and shabby. There was no weapon on him. His dark hair was a tangled mess, sweeping messily over his eyes. His face was smeared with grime and dirt and his hands bore many cuts and bruises. It was difficult to see any wounds on his back, though Aragorn could not see or smell any fresh blood on him.

If Aragorn were to guess, the stranger appeared to be a hapless villager who was unlucky enough to fall into the river and washed up where they were now.

Frodo and Sam approached Aragorn and the man, having deemed it was safe to draw near.

“ We should help him, Aragorn,” Frodo repeated when he realized that Aragorn made no attempt to touch the man.

Aragorn hesitated. Not for a lack of compassion. As one trained in the healing acts, his heart always ached for those who are injured and harmed with no means to defend themselves. But this stranger could be an agent of Sauron and he dared not risk that which would threaten the quest.

But Frodo was determined. “ Please Aragorn,” he softly said. “ We cannot abandon him like this to death.”

“ Go back to the others,” Aragorn finally said. “ We may need assistance in moving him.”

Nodding obligingly, the two hobbits left without further complaint, never once contemplating that Aragorn was sending them away so that he could mercifully kill the man when they were no longer present. Or that he was discreetly making sure that they were out of harm's way.

Aragorn waited until the hobbits' footsteps were no longer within his hearing before he slowly turned the man over to inspect for further wounds.

With a speed that Aragorn would say was enough to rival his, the man's eyes snapped open and his hand suddenly enclosed over Aragorn's neck.

Seconds lengthened.

Neither moved.

Aragorn drew in a slow inhale, his grey eyes meeting frenzied brown ones.

There was no mark of Sauron's evil within the man that Aragorn could sense. No blackness or shadow that tainted the man's being. If there was, he would not have targeted Aragorn but gone after Frodo and the ring.

“ If you have enough strength to wring my neck,” Aragorn calmly said. “ Then surely you can at least tell me who you are.”

The man growled, spittle flying from his teeth. “ Murderer,” he spat in disgust. His fingers tightened but yet, Aragorn made no sound of distress or any motion to move.

“ I do not know you,” Aragorn carefully said, not breaking eye contact. “ I do not know of this crime you accuse me of. I am not your enemy. I only seek to help heal your wounds.”

The man let out a raucous sound. “ Liar! I know you killed them ... you burned it all down ... everything ... everyone ...”

Aragorn frowned. He had not encountered any human settlements the last few times he travelled here on his own. If the man spoke the truth, he might be speaking of an event long past and Aragorn was simply someone who might have resembled one of those who did the deed.

“ I am sorry for your loss,” Aragorn sincerely said instead.

“ You should be!” the man hissed. “ I've waited ... waited years to get my revenge. And I found you and you will pay for what you have done.”

A dark stain of red blossomed over the man's left side. “ You are hurt,” Aragorn said, mindful to speak slowly to ease the passage of air. “ Let me help you.”

The man shook his head like a wet dog. His eyes looked into Aragorn's face without truly seeing him.

“ I'll – I will – I said I will – ”

It appeared the man lost his capability to finish his sentence.

Aragorn had seen men like this, driven to despair or suffering with brain sickness from the horrors of war, disease and misfortune, beyond the aid of any healer, their actions delirious and manic and incomprehensible to all around them but themselves.

“ If you truly wished to kill me, I would have been dead by your hands already,” Aragorn gently said.

The man closed his eyes. He trembled violently.

His mouth opened.

But Aragorn did not get a chance to find out what he would have said because from behind, he heard familiar voices and the scattering of pebbles beneath a heavy boot.

And the peaceful spell that Aragorn had managed to woven had just as quickly unravelled.

The man snarled like a cornered wolf.

And Aragorn was still in his grasp.

~.~.~

“ You say he was unarmed?” Boromir asked.

“ Mister Strider found no weapons on him,” Sam said, hurrying to match the man's longer strides.

“ No man in these parts would be unarmed,” he frowned. “ It is most unnatural.”

“ Perhaps he is a farmer or one not trained in the art of combat,” Frodo mused.

“ We can ask him if Aragorn was able to revive him.”

“ There they are,” Sam pointed. “ The man is awake!”

He spotted the man was sitting up. Sam was too far away to see but he could see the man was surprisingly in close proximity to Aragorn.

Aragorn too was kneeling on the ground and was unnaturally still. As they approached closer, Sam could see his hands placatingly raised towards the stranger, palms outwards as a gesture of peace, and he was speaking cautiously with a hint of urgency to the man, as one would to a skittish animal.

That sort of action gripped Sam's heart in a suddenly painful dread.

The fact that Boromir gave a shout and immediately drew his sword merely added to his fear.

Now that the stranger was facing them, Sam could see a frantic look upon his drenched face. In some ways, the man appeared more like a feral beast than a human. Surely no one of a practical mindset would have chosen to attack and attempt to kill someone who was simply lending their aid out of the kindness of their heart?

The hand around Aragorn's neck would disagree with Sam's thoughts.

“ Who are you?” Boromir commanded, authority ringing in his voice. “ And why do you lay a hand on our companion?”

The man made a guttural sound that they did not understood. His eyes wildly darted between them. He bared and gnashed his teeth at them but made no reply.

Fingers squeezed and nails began to dug into soft flesh.

Boromir growled, stepping forward.

“ Stay where you are,” Aragorn called out, without turning his head, remaining motionless. If not for the rustle of his cloak and the wind brushing across his hair, they could have mistaken him for a statue. Sam did not understand how the ranger could sound impossibly composed with a hand clamped over his neck threatening to snap it.

And was it Sam's imagination but did Aragorn sound strained?

“ I hope to settle this without violence.”

Unwillingly, Boromir complied. His sword twitched restlessly in his hands. “ That course of action may be unwise,” he cautioned.

“ I am aware,” Aragorn calmly said. “ But he – ”

Aragorn broke off as the man made more harsh sounds. But to Sam's surprise, this time, there was some coherent words mixed in.

“ ... too many ... just like before ... only way ... must kill ... before the others arrive ... ”

Aragorn murmured something, as one would to soothe a frantic animal – Sam wasn't able to catch what was said – but it did nothing to pacify the man.

The man's gaze trailed to somewhere over Boromir's shoulder and his eyes widened.

Sam barely had a chance to turn around to try to see what directed his attention before the man lunged at Aragorn with a crazed howl, both hands now wrapped over Aragorn's throat, nails clawing and tearing into skin.

Many things happened at once.

Sam shrieked.

Aragorn's hands shot up in an attempt to escape from the man.

Boromir leaped forward.

An arrow whistled over Frodo's head.

A spray of blood splattered onto the ground.

The man collapsed.

A hoarse wheezing was the only thing heard in the silence.

“ Aragorn!”

It was as if Sam was awaken from a spell at Legolas's voice. The wood elf appeared from nowhere, flying past them, and hurried over to Aragorn, his bow clenched tightly between his hands.

Even from where he stood, Sam could see the beginnings of red appearing streaking across the skin. Blood stained between Aragorn's fingers as Legolas inspected his throat.

“ Oh Aragorn,” Frodo whispered. He stood there trembling. “ I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”

Aragorn shook his head. He tried to say something but he ended up hunched over, coughing and rasping. “ Do not speak yet,” Legolas said in concern.

He was interrupted at the sound of a grating chuckle.

They all turned to see the man lying on the ground, his chest heaving with Legolas's arrow pierced through it, as gurgled laughter escaped past the man's lips.

Sam could not help but shudder. Who but a mad man could find amusement through all of this?

Legolas's fair face became thunderous. “ Pray tell what is so funny,” Boromir growled.

It took another moment for the man to collect himself. Sam could see a bubble of blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. “ I ... am free,” he wheezed. “ Free at last.”

He gave one more wet convulsing gasp before he stilled and moved no more.

~.~.~

Nothing could hardly prepare Pippin when he saw what happened to Aragorn.

When Sam and Frodo hurried back to their camp to inform them they had found an unconscious man, his curiosity was peaked and he would have followed them to see this mysterious man. But Gandalf staunchly forbid such action and only allowed Boromir to accompany Sam and Frodo back to where Aragorn was.

Pippin tried to hear what Gandalf was muttering to Boromir but it appeared the wizard had meant it for Boromir's ears only. Boromir nodded in agreement and he set off with Sam and Frodo.

It was not too long after that they heard an angry shout that belonged to Boromir in the distance.

Gandalf jumped to his feet. Gimli reached for his axe. Pippin and Merry froze.

All at once, Pippin's mind wandered to the worst. A monster came, snatching Frodo away. Sam stumbled too close to the river and fell in. Aragorn was ambushed by a group of bandits. A wild creature gave chase to Boromir.

Gandalf stood, listening for something. His frown deepened. “ Stay here,” he said. “ Legolas has already gone to their aid.”

Pippin was surprised to hear that as the wood elf had went ahead to scout earlier. Legolas must have sensed some danger and rushed over there.

Gimli gritted his teeth but remained where he was, also staring at the direction of Boromir's voice. He did not let go of his axe. Merry gripped his shoulder, worry etched in his face for his cousin and friend.

It was perhaps only a few moments but to Pippin, it felt like hours, before they spotted a familiar group of people.

Frodo and Sam appeared shaken. Boromir looked somber. There was a deepening frown across Legolas's mouth. His bow remained clenched in his grasp.

But it was the sight of Aragorn that made Pippin's blood grow cold.

The ranger looked pale and weary, one hand massaging across his neck. From what Pippin could tell, there was blood staining between his fingers.

“ What happened?” Gimli demanded.

“ Aragorn was attacked by the man found by the river,” Boromir answered grimly. “ He was mad, babbling all sorts of nonsense before he tried to strangle and maul Aragorn's throat.”

There was a horrified silence at the end of Boromir's words.

“ And what became of this man?” Gandalf asked in a dangerously low voice.

“ Dead,” Legolas shortly said. The frightful glower on his face did not dissipate.

“ He – he was laughing,” Sam whispered. He looked ill, like he might throw up. “ He was happy that Mister Legolas killed him.”

“ I only wish I arrived sooner,” Legolas solemnly said. “ I had heard Boromir's shout and hastened to find what alarmed him so.”

Gimli cursed in Dwavish. “ Shame the elf got to him first. I would have liked to take his head off,” he darkly said.

“ He ... was unwell.”

Pippin shuddered at how ragged and rough Aragorn sounded. It was as if all the strength had been stolen from his voice.

“ Did you know him?” Merry asked.

“ No. But I was able to glean some information,” Aragorn murmured as Gandalf directed Merry to retrieve the medicinal bag Elrond had packed for them. Pippin had to lean forward to hear him. “ His family was killed some time ago. He mistook me for that person.”

Aragorn's words brought no comfort. There was a mix of pity and horror, Pippin found himself feeling. A man was so consumed by anguish and torment over the loss of his loved ones that he would attempt to kill an innocent person, believing them to be the source of their affliction. Only to be glad when someone else managed to kill him instead.

“ It is over,” Gandalf finally said. “ Hopefully his soul will find the peace he long desired. Let us take a look at your wounds, Aragorn.”

“ I am ... fine.”

“ I would disagree with that, old friend,” the wizard frowned, kneeling down next to Legolas who was also grimacing as he inspected Aragorn's throat.

Pippin almost wished that he was not standing so near to see the wounds that Aragorn now bore. It was as if red ribbons were coiled over his throat, some small, some deep, and all appeared inflamed and swollen. And flitted between the lacerations were the beginnings of ugly bruises in the form of ghostly fingers imprinting over the flesh.

It looked less like a man had done this but a savage animal. And from what the others were saying, it sounded like the man was not too far off from that description.

Such violence Pippin was not accustomed to. No wonder Frodo was white as a sheet and Sam looked unnerved. They had seen it first hand.

“ You can heal Aragorn, right Gandalf?” Pippin asked in a very tiny voice.

The wizard did not answer right away and in of itself, his silence made Pippin's heart hammer. “ It will take time,” Gandalf said. “ There is no lasting damage that I can tell.”

Aragorn himself was quiet, only grimacing as Legolas examined one of the deeper wounds.

Then Gandalf started giving instructions to the rest of the Fellowship to assist with Legolas and to prepare for the night.

Pippin was almost thankful for the distraction as he hurried to complete the task laid for him.

~.~.~

{ _How are you feeling?_ }

Legolas found himself asking that question many times this night to Aragorn.

Dinner was a somber affair where none of the Fellowship possessed much appetite, their food picked at, Aragorn most of all.

His injuries made speaking, swallowing and even breathing difficult and painful. Aragorn ended up choking on the herbal tea that Legolas brewed for him meant to relieve pain and nearly caused all of the Fellowship to dissolve into a panic as he ended up into a coughing fit and heaved up what remained in his stomach.

Blinking back watering eyes, Aragorn could only shake his head and wave aside their concerns as he declined any further drink or food for that matter for the rest of the evening.

He retreated for rest but Legolas knew it not only because Aragorn was weary and sore, but because he disliked causing such discomfort to the fellowship, particularly the hobbits, and he grew uneasy of the indiscreetly furtive glances he kept receiving from the others throughout the evening.

Aragorn was no stranger to injuries but Legolas could sense he despised himself for having such a weakness, one that was hampering the progress of the quest.

Legolas sat next to his friend, under the guise of inspecting the bandages he had already checked less than a hour ago. It was to his relief that the salve Elrond provided was working well and hopefully within a few days the cuts would be but scars, the bruises would fade and be only a dark memory in the past.

{ _As well as I can be_ } Aragorn responded evasively.

Legolas frowned at how Aragorn's voice remained scraped and damaged. There was something not right at hearing his friend sound most unlike himself. { _Do you think you could drink the tea again_?}

There was a quick flash of apprehension in Aragorn's eyes but it happened so quickly that only an elf would have noticed it. He nodded regardless.

As Legolas went to collect hot water, Frodo brushed past him towards Aragorn.

Surprised but tactful, Legolas pretended not to pay heed to the ring bearer as he kept his face impassive and forward on his task while listening to the conversation behind him.

“ I – I wish to apologize to you,” Frodo was quietly saying. “ If not for my insistence to help the man, you would not have suffer injuries.”

That would explain why Aragorn allowed the man to get that close to him and why Frodo recoiled with guilt every time he looked upon Aragorn.

Noble but foolish indeed. Both of them, really.

“ No fault lies upon you,” Aragorn shook his head. “ The man's mind was not his own. He knew not what actions he took.”

Frodo flinched at the croak in his voice, undisguised mortification on his face. “ But I – ”

“ I do not blame you, Frodo,” Aragorn firmly said, a note of finality in his voice despite the rasp. “ Iknew the risks and I made an error in my judgement. I am only thankful that it was I who paid the price and not any other of the fellowship. So there is no need to blame yourself.”

Such a long speech made Aragorn cough and wheeze harshly and Legolas almost abandoned his ostensibly slow task of preparing tea. He caught sight of Boromir, Gimli and Pippin similarly almost give themselves away.

They were all concerned for Aragorn and uncertain how to act. Legolas inwardly shook his head in amusement. What an interesting group they were.

“ Should I get Legolas or Gandalf?” Frodo worriedly asked once Aragorn controlled his breathing again.

Aragorn waved a hand. “ I am well.”

The hobbit huffed, a mixture of fondness and annoyance. “ Perhaps I should get Legolas to check for an head injury. Your definition of 'well' is most unreasonable.”

This time, Aragorn chuckled and despite the stern look on his face, Frodo began to grin.

The others were smiling as well and quietly returned back to their tasks.

This was not a side Legolas had seen of Frodo before. During their brief interactions during and after the council, the hobbit had appeared solemn and determined and did not seem to be the kind of person who would partake in pranks or make light jokes.

For that matter, it had been some time since he had seen Aragorn smile. Of late, Aragorn had been busy with many missions and errands for Elrond and for the Dúnedain, and with each assignment, Aragorn appeared more grim and less prone to smile. It was disheartening to see his friend like that.

The joining of different races under one group, as unlikely and incredulous as it initially was, perhaps was not a bad thing at all.

“ Peace, Frodo.” Aragorn was gingerly rubbing his throat – laughing while good for the soul was not necessarily something his injuries appreciated – but his eyes were twinkling with mirth. “ Or Legolas may come after you for ruining his work.”

“ I have enough experience with hobbits in their tweens to know that you are deflecting,” Frodo retorted.

None of them needed elvish hearing to catch Pippin's grumbled disgruntlement.

“ You have not encountered enough men to know of their stubbornness as well,” Legolas spoke up as he approached them.

Aragorn made a face at Legolas at his light jape, but Frodo looked thoughtful. “ There is still much I do not know of the world outside the Shire.”

“ It would take many decades before you know all its secrets,” Aragorn said as he carefully sip the tea to ease the warm drink down his throat.

“ Perhaps even more,” Legolas agreed. “ Is not Mithrandir proof of that?”

Frodo smiled. “ That is true.”

The hobbit's spirits appeared to be better, as was Aragorn. Legolas encouraged Frodo to rest, as it had been a long evening.

Legolas waited until Frodo had bid them good night and returned to the side of his fellow hobbits, shoulders lifted and a light spring in his step, before he lowered his voice to Aragorn.

{ _I would disagree with your statement_ }

At Aragorn's questioning look, the elf continued. { _To respond to your earlier words, no one, much less_ you _, should have had to pay any price_ } he softly said.

Aragorn sighed. He set down the cup, cradling it between his hands. { _I know_ } he said in a heavy voice. { _It is only due to your quick actions that spared more grief and harm_ }

{ _And I would do it again, just as quickly_ } Legolas said with fierce resolution.

Aragorn smiled. { _I thank you_ }

{ _Anytime, my friend. Anytime_ }


End file.
